Death of the Dragonborn
by OakwoodOuroboros
Summary: A hero dies... another arises, then dies again. TW slurs


Eh depending on feedback I might make this a chaptered fic. Idk man, your call

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Jonathan knocked on the red door. He took a step back down the small staircase that led up to the suburban house's entrance, nervously glancing up the façade. Everything was painted white or tasteful shades of beige and accents of red, like lipstick to the building.

Probably one of the least welcoming places to call a home.

Jay hovered by his ear, somewhat fearful of the place. Jonathan rolled his eyes and shushed the floating heart, on second thought grabbing it and shoving it into his backpack before the Paynes could see it. They probably had a camera or something monitoring their front porch; they did seem like the kind of people to install CCTV even though they could probably use the peephole just as easily. They probably hadn't seen Jay though, if he was lucky.

The sound of the chain and a bolt being pulled back greeted him with the same warmth as the suburban mom who appeared seconds later, her lips puckered and frown on, as per.

"Here for Constance, I presume?"

"Yes Ma'am, I heard she's sick, so I brought her some things to get her through."

Her frown deepened, so much so that it cast shadows on the rest of her face, before she nodded, stepping aside and letting Jonathan into the Instagram selfie background that was the hallway. White, white, and more white. Oh yes, the obligatory "splash of colour" to liven things up, but that, in Jonathan's eyes, only made the rest of the room look even duller in comparison.

"Please take your shoes off and leave them on the visitor's rack, we don't want mud dragged all over the carpets."

Indeed, this was a very white household.

He quickly did as he was told, the slight look of disgust when the woman witnessed his sweaty socks making the boy smirk before he skipped up the stairs, throwing a quick "Yes!" in answer to her order to keep all doors open. The comfy carpeting over the hardwood floors might have been the thing that Jonathan enjoyed the most about this dreary place, every square foot nearly as comfortable as a mattress. The second door that Jonathan had been aiming for that day was already cracked slightly open, softly muffled sounds coming from inside the room it led to. This lady really liked her hardwood, or at the very least was some kind of sound insulation freak.

He knocked, entered, and flopped on the bed beside the person laying there. The latter took no notice, continuing to type away on their computer.

"Shirley told me you were coming."

As per cue, the little heart appeared right next to Jonathan, goofy smile and all. The backpack that he had failed to take off and had not cared about crushing in his fall suddenly started to squirm, something inside desperately trying to break free. Jonathan sighed and pulled the zipper open, letting Jay pop out like an alien from a stomach. The heart zoomed to embrace the other, phasing through each other a few times before stabilising, floating and holding hands near the top of the four-poster.

The person who had originally been laying in bed sighed, smiling as they closed their laptop and set it on the nightstand next to them.

"Hi Jonny."

"Hi Sher."

They leaned in towards each other, embracing tightly. Fingers ghosted across Jonathan's cheek, a subtle invitation, but they were gone as quickly as they had appeared. Both Shirley and Jay vibrated above them for a few seconds after that.

"Well, I came here to bring you homework, I guess-"

"Oh fun," the blanket-covered redhead replied in a monotone.

"-buuut I decided to. Well. Maybe do it all for you. Because it was English and I know how much you hate poetry."

"Ugh, Jon, you shouldn't, but I do have to say that I'm in too much pain to protest."

"Too much-" The brunet gestured theatrically towards the family photo sitting on the aforementioned nightstand. "-Payne."

The look he received could have murdered a seagull. "I've lost count of how many times you've made that joke."

"Definitely not enough. I need to up my game."

"Yeah, like, not making dad jokes."

Their banter continued so on and so forth, loving insults and fond little piques that revealed, however subtly, the real nature of their relationship. The ballet of their hearts above their heads was a way more obvious disclaimer of the love between them.

"Hey, I got you chocolates too, and like, bananas? I heard they make you feel better or something."

Jonathan pulled said items out of his bag, the bananas indeed a bit squishier than he had thought at first. The other boy took them gingerly, sighing with a smile nonetheless plastered on his face.

"I'm unsure of the actual effects of banana on period pains, but it's kind of you, Jonny. Thank you."

And it couldn't have been more sincere.

They leaned in towards each other once again, the distance between them quickly going far beyond the "prude" one required by the lady of the house. Arms wrapped around each other, the breath of their partner hitting their faces, their noses were barely an inch apart when all of a sudden, the whole room shook with the pounding of a very recognisable pair of footsteps.

The door was slammed open by a blond preteen boy, blue eyes and chubby face the exact kind that parents would coo over and that could literally get him out of any kind of trouble. Even, God forbid, swearing.

"CONNIE IS KISSING HER BOYFRIEND THEY'RE FUCKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!"

"RAY, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE GET OUT OF MY ROOM!"

"CONNIE, DON'T INSULT YOUR BROTHER! NO TV FOR A WEEK!"

The eleven year old stuck his tongue out and ran from the room, laughing, as Sherwin swore under his breath.

"And that is what we call blatant partiality, children."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not. It's just as it is."

Jonathan was quiet for a second, opened his mouth to say something, but quickly decided to not voice his irritation at his boyfriend brushing him off. There was nothing he could do, let alone say, in a situation like this. Well, maybe he could do something.

"That smile means nothing good," Sherwin pointed out, even though his expression was just as mischievous as Jonathan's in this situation. "Just don't do anything rash, ok?"

Jay fluttered down, the tiniest of cackles escaping the tiny creature. Shirley waved a little, pencil-thin arms as the lighter coloured heart fluttered out of the room.

"I guess that works."

They continued their conversation, smiling, but not looking up when they heard a distant scream of distress that spoke volumes of the loss of Sherwin's Skyrim loving brother's progress. Ah, forgetting to save his game every five seconds, unlike the redhead's own fervent control + s'ing habit sure did do its job.

The mischievous heart fluttered back into the room and returned to Shirley's arms, both of them cackling along with the boys below them.

"Not one to suffer in silence, I see."

"Not one to be silent at all, for that fact. Bloody little shit screamed so loudly when he was told he was going to get an adopted big 'sister', even I remember it. I must have been, like, nine?"

"And he was three. It's safe to say that he was born a scumbag and will remain one for the rest of his life."

"So are you," Jonathan replied, smirking. "What are you hacking this time, some offshore bank?"

"Myeah. Politicians can't ask for any investigations to be done if they're not supposed to have the money in the first place."

"Right. But like, they do have private investigators. Please be careful honey, I don't want to have to take out all the snipers with a knife whenever we go out on a date."

Sherwin cocked an eyebrow. "And how would you do that, may I ask?"

"Well…" the brunet started. "Probably by throwing it."

The facepalm was so loud it was heard above the sound of Sherwin's sorry excuse for a brother, and the comforting cooings of their mother, promising she'd hire someone to get back to the point in the game that he was not able to save. Speaking of which, she must have heard the the loud smacking sound, because unlike what would usually be expected of her (that is, making sure her perfect little son was fully satisfied), she marched up the stairs like the elephant she was.

"Constance, I think it's high time for Jonathan to leave. As much as I respect him, his heart seems to have hurt your brother, and therefore he is no longer welcome."

"Come on Mom, he's right there. Can you like, not speak as if he wasn't in the room?"

She turned to look at the darker boy, a tiny look of disgust flitting across her face, as if she were talking to a wet sock on the bathroom floor.

"Jonathan, I think you should leave. As much as I appreciate that you are Constance's… boyfriend, I don't think it is appropriate for you to have come around in the first place. You can do better than date my daughter, maybe try someone of your own… type."

Sherwin was foaming at the mouth at this point, quite literally, making his mother panic and claim that he had contracted rabies; from whom, she didn't say, but the shooing that she directed towards Jonathan was clear enough in how she thought of him.

This wasn't really anything new to Jonathan, who walked past Ray on his way out of the house, the sniffling boy back at his game. With a clumsiness that he had trouble faking, he tried over the Playstation's wire, unplugging the console from the wall and prompting the screen to go black.

"YOU REALLY WISHED YOU HAD A PENIS, YOU FUCKING FAG!"

"Now now Ray, how can I be a homosexual person if I'm dating your sister? Besides, there's nothing wrong with a little 'love is love', right?"

The boy had no idea how to reply to that, so he stayed there, foaming at the mouth nearly as much as Sherwin was. Jonathan simply prayed that this was the only thing that had rubbed off on Sherwin from his adoptive family.

With a wink and a flirty kiss that he blew from his hand, Jonathan stepped outside into the sunlight once more, Jay fluttering behind him and doing cartwheels in glee. This had went pretty much as well as he had expected it to go; he had made sure Sherwin was holding up ok against the dysphoria, had annoyed both the mother and the brother of said boy, and best of all, had spent some time together and let their hearts dance for joy above their clasped hands. There was simply something there, in the touch of their two hearts that they could both feel, something that was so pure, so perfect, that everything else seemed to be swept under the rug. Despite their teasing, prodding and poking at each other's egos, they were happy, and that was that.


End file.
